IWTGHFW CHAPTER 15

Episode 15

After leaving the captain’s office, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been recruited into something deeply troublesome.

I mean, sure, the “pinnacle of swordsmanship” sounds nice on paper, but the “pinnacle of headaches” is what I see coming.

I trudged back toward my room, still holding the bag of cookies David had given me. I’d forgotten to offer any to Ron and Sean. Oh well. I considered it a small victory.

When I entered my quarters, Rose was there, sprawled across the sofa like a queen awaiting tribute.

“You’re back late. Did the captain lecture you again?”

“No. Worse. He gave me work.”

Her eyebrow arched. “That bad?”

“I have to help plan the special entrance exam. Apparently, the captain’s found a ‘genius’ from the Northern Tribes and wants to sneak them in without anyone noticing.”

Rose sat up so fast you’d think I’d told her the Empire was on fire.

“The Northern Tribes? Is he insane?”

“That’s what I said.”

“And you’re helping?”

“…That’s what he said.”

Rose buried her face in her hands, muttering something about the captain’s chronic “talent rescue” disease.

The next morning, Sean summoned me to his office.

I half-expected more arguments about whether this mysterious recruit should even exist, but instead, he handed me a thick folder.

“This is the preliminary outline for the exam. Review it and note any potential… incidents.”

I flipped it open. Swordsmanship trials, horseback archery, endurance tests… the usual. But there was one section that stood out:

‘Cultural Adaptation and Imperial Etiquette Evaluation.’

“…This is just to see if they can use a fork without stabbing someone, isn’t it?”

Sean’s lips twitched. “You catch on quickly.”

“And who’s going to handle that part?”

“You.”

Of course.

Three days later, I was standing in the training yard with a tall, wiry teenager who looked like they’d been carved from wind and snow. Dark hair, sharp eyes, posture like a hunting cat.

This was the so-called prodigy.

They stared at me in silence for a long moment. I stared back.

“…Do you speak Imperial?” I asked slowly.

The teen tilted their head, then said something in a language I didn’t understand, but the tone made it sound suspiciously like, Who are you supposed to be?

Great. This was going to be fun.